


My Good Friend, Sylvain

by bigfatsalad



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Confessions, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Jealousy, Mentioned Blue Lions Students (Fire Emblem), Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Peach Sorbets, Pining, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Rare Pairings, my mind went to the gutter during their B support, ship supported by supports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24249121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigfatsalad/pseuds/bigfatsalad
Summary: The two school heartthrobs, always out and about with person after person. Who would've thought that the two would decide to toy with one another, in a relationship based off of their own pure carnal desires to relieve their tensions? Though, maybe that wasn't all there was to the two friends... after all, two sides of the same coin are just that.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault & Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Dorothea Arnault/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	My Good Friend, Sylvain

**Author's Note:**

> Look, for some reason, this ship popped into my head (I don't even ship it!!). Then the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to write these two. Plus, it's supported by their supports. So please enjoy this (or not, your choice), since in the process of writing this, I had to explain to my mom what "pulling out" meant. Very embarrassing, but worth it. 
> 
> Leave kudos and/or a comment please! Makes my day and motivates me to keep writing! Thank you!

“Leaving already?” Sylvain yawned as he lay sprawled over his bed, with nothing but his bed sheets covering him. Dorothea, who was already by the door, adjusted her shirt.

“I suppose I have to. It looks like the sun’ll be coming up.”

He sat up, the sheets sliding off to reveal his bare torso. “Already?” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, then I guess you better be leaving now. Don’t get caught, alright?”

She rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t annoyed. “I haven’t gotten caught yet, so I think we’re fine.”

“Props to you, of course,” he chuckled. “See you in class, then.” Sylvain waved a hand as she nodded and left. Once she was gone, he flopped back onto his bed. He rubbed his eyes roughly. Class was set to start in about two hours, but he was so deathly tired from last night. Dorothea and him… hoo boy. On their own, they were fine enough, but when put together, they could be a force to be reckoned with. He was still in a daze. Focusing on class today was definitely going to be a struggle. Especially if she decided to attend class today.

~~ _Months prior_

Sylvain Jose Gautier, master flirter extraordinaire. He was infamous for dating around. Some girls were even warned to stay far, _far_ away from him. That didn’t stop them from falling for his whims anyways. Or having their hearts broken either. But hey, he couldn’t help himself, and neither could they, apparently. However, there was _one_ girl who didn’t exactly fall for his flirts. One girl whose heart he couldn’t break the way he wanted to.

Dorothea Arnault. A former songstress, whose voice and looks were nothing to scoff at. He’d first taken interest in her once she joined his class upon the professor’s invitation. Sylvain had heard some rumors about her, here and there, but none were exactly consistent. He’d heard from one classmate that she was “stiff” but from another that she was “easy.” It was hard for him to form an opinion of her. He had no choice but to wonder for himself, leading him to strike up their first, fateful conversation. It really hadn’t gone as planned.

Sylvain thought to introduce himself the same way he did every time he talked to a woman: with a flirt. As beautiful as she was, he definitely didn’t expect her to be so _blunt_ . She saw completely through him, on their first meeting as well. He had to play it off with a scoff. There was _no_ way he could hate women; he flirted with every single one, after all. She didn’t really seem to believe his words though. 

Every flirtatious comment seemed to backfire on him; he learned that dear Dorothea here was pretty witty herself. Eventually, she walked away. She had a defiant air about her, though, basically telling him “I’m not yours to play with.” It only intrigued him more.

Maybe the rumors were true, but he’d never find out by sitting around. He resolved himself to persuade the teacher to let him learn some reason magic; he’d overheard that Dorothea was studying it as well.

Thankfully, the professor had approved his request, a devious smile on her face. During the next mission, Dorothea was rather surprised to see Sylvain as her adjutant. He remembered her asking the professor if this was some sort of mistake, ‘Shouldn’t Sylvain be with the cavalry,’ blah blah. The professor shook her head, told her to help him with his magic, and left to take her place. Dorothea sighed, and begged Sylvain not to make any problems. He stood rigid, ‘Yes milady, I won’t cause any problems, unless you want me to,’ blah blah. He might’ve winked, which probably earned him an exasperated eye roll. Still, he couldn’t forget the corner of her mouth quirking up into, what he thought was, a smile.

That’s how it had gone for the past few months. And what a killer duo the two made. At least until Sylvain had taken it a bit too far and gotten himself hurt during battle. He had to lie to the professor as to how it happened, something along the lines of, ‘Heh sorry, guess I was spacing out.’ He’d gotten a stern scolding from the professor, but the questions were done with at least. However, he was aware Dorothea knew the truth. He had a feeling she wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.

Sylvain had earned a strict lecturing from Dorothea, as expected. How he should’ve been a bit more careful during battle, that taking that hit for her wasn’t necessary, how stupid he was. ‘Aw, worried about me,’ he had teased. She ignored that comment, continuing on with her lecture. ‘Ah, okay okay. I get it.’ Out of guilt, she promised him something once he got better. ‘Maybe I should get hurt more often, huh?’ ‘This is a one-time thing, Sylvain,’ she sighed.

*

Dinner. Dorothea had invited him out to dinner. There had to be an ulterior motive, besides thanking him for his sacrifice. He teased, ‘Have you perhaps… fallen in love with me?’ She groaned, even threatened to retract her invitation. But Sylvain saw through her seemingly simple invitation. ‘I get it. You want someone to chase your loneliness away.’ She didn’t deny it, as he thought she would. Instead, she nodded and added that if he wasn’t up to it, she could find someone else for the job. After all of this chasing, why would he let it be a waste? Bowing, he accepted the invitation, grateful for a chance to get to know dear Dorothea better.

He still had his reservations though. ‘You aren’t doing this for my Crest, are you?’ She asked him if it was really necessary information, just for a dinner invitation. It made her uncomfortable, he could tell, but still, he needed to know. That way, he wouldn’t have to waste his time by pursuing her. Instead of answering the question, she asked him instead: if she was an old hag, would he still flirt with her? Now he was uncomfortable. ‘It’s not like I don’t _like_ mature women, it’s just…’ One operatic monologue later, she asked him to not bring up such a topic during dinner. While she may have been joking, her words made a crack in his hardened heart.

He promised he wouldn’t. Sylvain wouldn’t want to spoil the mood.

*

Dinner was a success. They’d spent the time getting to know each other better. Sylvain had learned of Dorothea’s distaste of nobles, her mission to settle down, as well as what her favorite flower was. He had found it surprisingly easy to open up to her about things as well, such as his brother, his latest break-up, and _Ingrid_. His interest in her was piquing, rapidly. Maybe he’d continue doing magic anyways, if only for him to hear her speak her mind more.

“Here, I’ll walk you back to your room,” he offered. The dining hall was set to close soon, and curfew was to be set.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I insist. A beautiful lady such as yourself shouldn’t—”

“Knock it off,” she rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll let you walk me back. Just this once though.” He smiled cheekily. “But if we get caught and misunderstood, it’s your fault.”

“I’ll accept full responsibility.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Now let’s go before it gets too cold.”

They’d left the dining hall, and just as expected, the cold breeze had already set in. Dorothea was shivering a bit, folding her arms into herself.

“Here.” Sylvain had taken off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” she said sarcastically.

“You know, normally, girls say thanks after a guy does that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Ouch,” he clutched his chest dramatically. “You wound me!”

“Oh shut it.”

They had walked the distance to Dorothea’s room in comfortable silence. Chance encounters like this could be nice as well, he realized. He didn’t know silence like this could be soothing, and warm. Ironic.

*

“Thanks, Sylvain,” Dorothea said, as she stepped into her room.

“Yeah, no problem. Invite me out anytime,” he put his arms around his head. “I’ll make time for you.”

“How reassuring.” With a wave, and a curt edge to her voice, she said, “Good night, Sylvain.” She tried to close the door, but Sylvain jammed his foot into the opening.

“Hey, wait a second,” he said, panicked. “My coat, Dorothea.”

“What about it?”

“Could you give it back to me?”

“I’ll just hand it back to you in class tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but, I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. Just hand it over to me now.”

Dorothea had a twinkle in her eye, one that Sylvain knew all too well. _Oh no._ “Well, if you want it so bad, then come in and get it.” She waved the coat in front of him, taunting him.

He lunged for the coat, but she pulled it back as soon as he did. “Dorothea!” Sylvain checked left and right to make sure no one would see him go into her room. Coast was clear. With an uncertain step, he entered her room, shutting the door gingerly behind him.

“Oh, you actually came in?” She looked surprised, her eyes as wide as a fish’s. “I didn’t think you wanted your coat so badly.”

“I need to show up to class, _in_ uniform, Dorothea.” He shook his head. “Anyways, I’m inside your room now, could you hand it over?”

She wagged her finger at him. “Uh-uh-uh. Just because you’re here doesn’t mean I’ll give it to you without a fight.” She jumped up onto her bed. “Catch me if you can!”

“Ugh, come on, Dorothea! If we get caught…”

“We won’t. _No_ one patrols down here.” She shrugged. “Besides, even if we did, we could always sweet-talk ourselves out of it, right?”

“Well, I suppose so…” Maybe it was okay, just this once. “You know what? Fine. Bring it on, then!” Sylvain dashed forward. It’s a good thing her room was on the first floor.

“You’re,” she gasped, “faster than I thought!” She tried to jump off from her bed and onto the floor, but it was too late.

“Ah-ha!” He grasped her by the waist. “Gotcha— woah, hey!” “Sylvain!— oof!”

Sylvain had lost his balance, bringing the both of them down with a _thump_.

Both of them were toppled onto her bed. He found himself kneeling above her.

He groaned, as he lifted himself off of her. “Uh, whoops, Dorothea, I didn’t mean to—” He made the mistake of looking into her eyes, verdant green and _very_ surprised. She looked out of breath too; her chest was heaving and her face was flushed. Sylvain was at a loss for words, and he couldn’t bring himself to move.

“Sylvain…” she breathed. “You won.”

“Heh,” he smiled, “I guess I did.” He couldn’t bring himself to look away, and she stared right back with the same intensity. Unflinching. Heat pooled around his ears, and what a strange feeling it was. “What a short game, though,” he laughed uncomfortably. He could’ve sworn he heard his heart beat in his ears, and was wondering if she could hear it too. It filled up the silence in the room, becoming even more louder the longer he stared.

He was finding it increasingly harder to breathe. His chest felt heavy, and _very_ hot. The smile fell from his mouth. His face was probably as red as his hair by now. Her lips looked so delectable, he couldn’t stop staring at them. Plump. And slightly parted. As if on instinct, Sylvain inched closer and closer to her lips. Until finally, he captured her in a kiss. At first, she was unresponsive, like a doll. He felt his gut drop, there’s no way he could get away with this. Just as Sylvain was about to pull away, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, tilted her head, and deepened the kiss. She moaned against his mouth. His eyes widened. Woah, that _really_ turned him on.

Panting, they parted. Dorothea wiped a corner of her mouth off with a finger.

“Haah…”

“Dorothea… I—” She put a finger to his lips.

“Stop talking.” She pulled him down by the collar of his shirt and kissed him again. Sylvain reached his hand up to her cheek and held it there. He pushed his body closer to hers, hovering above her completely. His vision began to get hazy, his mind clouding with only one thought: Dorothea.

He pulled back, breathing heavy. Her fingers started working away at the buttons of his shirt, with deft precision. It was almost as if she’d done this before.

“Dorothea,” he gasped, slipping his shirt off, “once we do this, there’s no going back.”

She threw her hat aside. “I don’t mind.”

*

Sylvain woke up to someone tapping his shoulder. He waved a dismissive hand in the direction, and mumbled something incoherent. The tapping didn’t cease; if anything, it grew into shoving instead.

“…lvain. Wake up, sleepyhead.”

“Hmm… wha’s that?” he slurred. Dorothea flicked his nose. “Ouch, what was that for?”

“Awake now?”

He rubbed his temples, and turned his head to meet her eyes. Doe-eyed, and smiling. A strand of her beautiful brown hair framed her face. Sylvain tried to move an arm to move it behind her ear, but found he no longer had one; it had long-been numbed by the girl cradled in his arms. With his free hand, he tucked the lock behind her ear.

“There,” he rasped. “What’s up, beautiful?”

“The sun. Almost.”

“How long have I been here for?” He sat up.

“The whole night basically. I’ve been waiting for you to get up, but I got bored. So I woke you up.”

“A bit late for that, don’t you think?” He chuckled, but her face remained solid. “Do you want me to leave?” he whispered.

“It’s for the best, really. I need some time to process… things.” She tapped her cheek absent-mindedly. She didn’t look at him with the same intense eyes as last night. It was as if she was nervous to do so.

“Yeah, I understand that. I’ll hurry and get dressed.”

She slowly smiled, snide in her remark. “Quick. I think I hear birds chirping.”

“Oh crap!” He scrambled out of bed. Dorothea stifled a laugh as she watched him hastily get dressed. He ran out the door with a, “See you later, Dorothea!” as she waved goodbye.

Dorothea lay in bed, thinking long and hard about what had transpired last night. She didn’t really remember much, besides that first kiss they shared. Everything else was a blur. She glossed a finger over her lips, which were swollen, to her surprise. She very much could have pushed Sylvain off, reprimanded him. But she didn’t. And because she didn’t, they slept together. Dorothea didn’t find herself minding it as much as she should’ve. That was what she was struggling to wrap her head around.

To distract herself, she decided to sort through the messy piles of clothes on her floor, searching for her beloved hat. She wasn’t in the mood to do a _full_ cleanup, and that hat would have to do for now, covering up what she didn’t comb through.

An unfamiliar piece of clothing caught her eye. “What’s this?” She lifted it up by the sleeve, as if it were a dirty handkerchief. She inspected the tag inside it.

“Oh, looks like he left his coat here, after all.”

*

Many friends of his had looked at him during class with a strange face on. Some were more blunt than others in speaking their mind. ‘Where’d your coat go?’ He had to use his go-to excuse: ‘I was in a rush this morning, I must’ve forgotten it.’ Many believed it, even Ingrid, surprisingly. 

That was until Dorothea decided to show up, fashionably late. Sylvain cringed as he saw her waltz through the door, his school coat in hand. He prayed that she didn’t hand it back to him in front of everyone. 

No such luck.

During a gallery-walk activity, Dorothea approached him. “Sylvain.” _Shit._ “You left this behind the other day, in the dining hall. So, here it is. Don’t lose it next time.”

He frowned at the coat in her hand. Thank the Goddess that his group were the only ones paying attention to them. Slipping on a smile, he laughed, “Whoo, you’re a real lifesaver, Dorothea!” He gingerly took the coat from her. Rubbing the back of his neck, he continued, “Thought I lost this.”

She nodded, and leaned closer. She whispered, “I left a note in one of the pockets. Meet up with me after class.” Then she pulled away with a wink, and left to regroup and finish the activity.

He had a bad feeling about this.

*

Sylvain had checked the note, once, twice, even thrice. _Meet me by the courtyard at 4._ That’s what it said, he had made sure of it. But it sure wasn’t 4 anymore. It was probably 5, at this point. Where was she? Maybe he was in the wrong place? He’d thought about leaving a few times before, but his curiosity got the better of him. He sighed, placing the note back into his pocket. He felt like such a fool, but he remained seated on the bench. 

“Sylvain!” He looked up.

“Huh?” Dorothea was waving at him from afar. She seemed to be out of breath, even as she slightly jogged over. _Don’t look at her boobs._

“Phew,” she panted, “sorry I’m late, Sylvain. My date went on a bit longer than I thought it would.”

“A date?” Sylvain scratched his head. “You should’ve told me beforehand, but I guess it’s okay.”

“I know, I know.” She adjusted her hat. “Sorry, mind if I sit next to you?”

“Yeah, by all means, go ahead.” Crossing her legs, she sat herself next to him on the bench. “What a nice day, right Dorothea?”

“Yeah, I suppose it is. Perfect weather for a peach sorbet, don’t you think?”

“I agree. Maybe I could take you out for some, sometime?”

She giggled. “I’ll think about it, Sylvain. Not right now though.”

“Right.” The conversation trailed off, leaving the two in an uncomfortable silence. Dorothea started to examine her nails, play with her hair, laugh at the birds on the tree. She was doing everything except telling him why she wanted to meet up. 

He sighed. “So, Dorothea, what did you want to talk to me about?” He leaned forward, locking his fingers together. “I would think that it would be something important, seeing as I had to cancel a date of my own,” he lied.

“Oh, you did? I’m honored, really.”

“No need to be so excited.”

“Maybe the sorbet date will make up for it?”

“Not… exactly.”

She looked up from her nails. “Well, I called you here because I want to propose a deal to you.”

“A deal?” He turned his head and squinted his eyes at her. “What type of deal?” 

She smiled evilly. “Oh, it looks like I have your attention, now.” She tapped her finger underneath her chin. “I’ve been thinking. You and I, we’re two sides of the same coin, whether you realize it or not. Lonely. Frustrated. And always searching for the final piece to our puzzle.”

“Hmph,” he turned his attention back to his hands, “I guess you may be right.” With a cold edge to his voice, he continued, “So, what are you trying to get at here?”

“So apprehensive, Sylvain. Fine, I’ll get to the point.”

“Please do.”

“Last night.” He stiffened. “We can continue on with our lives, forget it ever happened, _or_ …” 

“Or?”

“We can continue.”

Sylvain grimaced. “Dorothea.” He sighed, “You’re not the first person to pitch an idea like this to me, before. Trust me, it _doesn’t_ work out.”

“You say that now, Sylvain.” Dorothea got up from the bench, and fixed her skirt. “You don’t have to give me your answer now. All I ask is that you consider it. Because only the Goddess knows how therapeutic sex can be with someone who knows your own struggles. Especially with a guy who knows how to use his fingers as magically as you do.” She started walking away, “Goodbye, Sylvain.”

“Wait!” he reached out and grabbed her wrist, to her surprise. “How can I trust that you won’t use me? For status? For my Crest?”

“Oh, so that’s what’s been bugging you this whole time?” She sighed, relieved. “I thought it was something a bit deeper than that.”

“Deeper? This is as deep as it gets, Dorothea!”

“Right. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“Hmph.” 

“I’ll give it to you straight. I have no interest in your Crest, if that’s what you’re worried about. Don’t get me wrong. It’s nice that you have money, but you’re not really my type.” She paused. “Besides, I’m not someone you can use and throw away, without my consent.”

“Is that so?”

“Cross my heart, hope to die.”

Sylvain scoffed. “That’s what they all say.”

“I’ll let you believe what you want to, then.” She snapped her hand away from him. She continued from over her shoulder, “My offer will still be on the table, should you wish to take it. Think about it.” She walked away for good that time, leaving Sylvain alone and confused.

“Hmph. That was just a one-time thing,” he grumbled.

*

“Dammit!” Sylvain punched his bedroom wall. “Fuck!” He crumpled to the floor, gripping at his hair. “Just when I thought a girl wouldn’t want me for my damned Crest, she wants to meet my family. We’ve only been dating for a week, for the Goddess’s sake!”

Dorothea’s offer rang through his head. _Think about it. I have no interest in your Crest._ “Damn! Why is this the only solution I see?” He checked his pocket watch. It wasn’t too late, and she was bound to be in her room. He _had_ to talk to someone at least!

“Let’s see what happens.” He checked the hallway; he didn’t want anyone else to see him in such a disheveled state. Clear. He slunked through the hall and down the stairs. He _had_ to see her.

*

A harsh, and rather frantic pounding on her door. Frankly, it startled her, and interrupted her singing practice. Reluctantly, she opened the door to see an out-of-breath Sylvain.

“Sylvain? What are you doing here— Hey! You can’t just barge in here!” Sylvain stormed in and plopped down on a chair. Dorothea shut the door. Crossing her arms, she frowned at him. “Care to explain?”

Sylvain dropped his face into his hands. “Sorry, sorry. My legs were moving before my mind could even think about it.”

She sighed. “Care to talk about it then?”

“Please.”

“Alright.” She walked over to her bed and sat atop it, cross-legged. “What happened?”

He lifted his head slowly. “You’re really that willing to listen to me?”

“Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I? We’re friends after all.”

“Friends, huh?”

“Yes, yes. _Friends_ listen to each other, Sylvain.”

“You really consider me a friend? Like a real friend?”

She scrunched her face at him. “Yeah? What type of question is that?” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I wouldn’t let people that I didn’t consider a ‘real’ friend into my room, you know?”

“That’s… great.”

“What’s wrong, Sylvain?”

“W-well… you won’t laugh at me, will you?”

“Any other time, yes. But now? No, of course not.”

Sylvain chuckled softly. “Whew, alright.” He leaned back in the chair. “So, I had recently gotten a new girlfriend. Maybe a few days after our ‘deal’ conversation. Things were going great, she didn’t seem too concerned with my nobility or my Crest. That is until… out of _nowhere_ , she asks me: ‘Let’s go meet your parents!’ blah blah blah. I stopped listening by that point.”

“How long have you two been dating?” 

“One week, at most.”

Dorothea cringed. “Yikes, that soon? She seemed to be missing some common sense.”

“Tell me about it,” he sighed. “I broke up with her then and there. She tried to lie her way out of it, but by then, her intentions were obvious.” He balled up a fist. “Right when I thought I wouldn’t be used for my Crest or power, _this_ happens. I’m really tired of it.”

“You talk like this is a normal occurrence, Sylvain.”

He smiled. “Oh, if only you knew.”

“Then enlighten me.”

He wiped the smile off his face. “Fine,” he spoke darkly. “You’re so lucky to not have been born with a Crest. People _only_ want me for it. My parents. Suitors.” He grimaced. “My brother _hated_ me because of it.”

She stood up. 

“What are you doin—” Dorothea crossed the distance and enveloped him in a hug. Sylvain didn’t move; shock twitched all over his face. 

“I had a feeling, but I can’t imagine it. Not completely, at least.”

He let one hand rest on her arm. “Dorothea… why are you so kind to me? Don’t you want something from me?”

She released him. “No, you idiot.”

“Then why?”

“Because I can empathize. Before I became a songstress, no one gave me a second glance. A filthy orphan who could only bathe in the fountain. It all changed when I was heard singing a hymn to myself. Suddenly, lots of people—including the nobles that sneered at me— wanted me. It was obvious why though.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry, Dorothea. I never knew.”

“Yeah, well now you do.” She jabbed a finger in his face. “Swear you won’t _ever_ tell anyone about that.”

Sylvain pushed her finger aside with a smile “My secret is your secret, Dorothea.”

“Hmph.” Dorothea sat down on her bed again. “I can’t believe you got me to share that with you. Feel better?”

“Definitely.”

“Good.”

“Well, actually, there’s one more thing.”

She smiled. “Oh yeah? Spill it then.”

“I thought about your deal.”

“And?”

“I think… I’d like to accept it.”

“Oh.” She gaped at him. “Like, actually?”

He nodded. “I trust you. We’re really close friends, by now.”

“You could even say that we’re _best_ friends, huh?” She patted her bed. “You seem frustrated enough. Wanna get started?”

“Right now?” Dorothea nodded. Sylvain rubbed the back of his neck. “Admittedly, that’s why I came to see you.” He got off the chair, shrugging off his coat. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all. That’s what friends are for, after all.”

  
  


~~ _Current Day_

That was how their relationship had blossomed into what it was today; an animalistic cycle, as they vented out onto each other’s bodies. Not that either of them minded it. Sometimes that’s all a person needed to get over a bad break up, or a failed date. 

Whatever this relationship was, they didn’t let it get in the way of their friendship; regular pillow talk helped alleviate whatever tensions remained. Sylvain talked more than he cared to admit, but he couldn’t help it. Dorothea really captivated him. Every little thing. From the twinkle in her eyes when she was scheming, to her little nervous quirks, to her furrowed brow when she lectured him. Small things he was sure he shouldn’t be noticing at all.

He found himself dreaming about her: during lectures, spars, even battles. Everything about her mesmerized him. Sylvain couldn’t really place a finger on _what_ though. He sure as hell loved her body, but who didn’t? It certainly couldn’t just be _that_ though. It spooked him, honestly. He didn’t normally notice small things about a person, like this.

*

On his way back to the dorms one day, Sylvain spotted a familiar hat.

“Hey, Dorothea—” he began to call out. “Huh?” Sylvain stopped dead in his tracks. She seemed to be talking to someone. He squinted, trying to see who it was. No luck. _I’ll have to get closer._ He inched closer along the wall leading up to the sauna. He still couldn’t make out the exact features of the figure, but it seemed to be a guy, based off of his frame. He was _definitely_ shorter than her. He crouched behind a bush near the dorm. He was as close as he could get without being spotted now. Peeking over the bush, he could clearly see the guy: scruffy, slouching, and four-eyed. He seemed to be an older guy; a noble maybe? He didn’t look to be anything special, but boy, were they chatting it up. He felt his neck get hot, and a growl form in his throat as he watched them from afar. 

Sylvain listened and listened, but he didn’t catch enough of their conversation. Dorothea was fidgeting with her hat, and her skirt. _She’s nervous._ That simple fact worried him to no end, but it wasn’t his place to step in. Yet. _Shit, what am I doing?_

If he got caught eavesdropping, there’s no telling what Dorothea’d do to him. 

“… So tomorrow at noon?” the man asked. Sylvain’s ears perked up at that.

“Mm-hm. It’s the only time I’m free.”

“O-oh, is that so?” the man adjusted his glasses. “It’s a bit tough to make… Can’t you go for another time?” He snickered, “I’d like for us to have some more _fun_ , but—”

“Noon, tomorrow. Take it or leave it.”

The man groaned slightly. Sighing, he said, “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow at noon, then?”

Saying their goodbyes, the man was off. The date arrangement on its own didn’t bug Sylvain; she’d made many before, it wasn’t new. However, what she said under her breath _did_ : “Am I really that desperate? He’s such a creep. Be strong, Dorothea; you can do this.”

_Desperate?_ She didn’t really strike him as a ‘desperate’ woman; she had that man wrapped around her finger, that much was obvious. Yet still, it bugged him to hear her talk about herself like that, let alone actually submit herself to an awkward date. He wasn’t worth her time. At all.

“Sylvain?” He jumped. “What are you doing behind those bushes?”

“O-oh, Dorothea! I didn’t see you there!” Sylvain rubbed the back of his neck. “I was just going around inspecting the bushes for Dedue! You know how particular he is about gardening!”

“Really now? That’s kind of you, Sylvain.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll be leaving now. Seeya, Dorothea.” He strutted away—but it was more like awkward shuffling— leaving Dorothea alone by the bushes.

She tapped her chin. “Hm, was it just me, or was he frowning just now?”

*

Sylvain unbuttoned his shirt and sat down on his own bed. It was getting a bit too hot, whenever he thought of Dorothea. And that man. He hadn’t wronged Sylvain personally, but he found himself despising him. He wasn’t sure why he was bothered, though. Dorothea was his friend. He trusted her to be responsible, as she always was. 

And yet he was fuming with a feeling he didn’t know. Or understand. Sylvain ran his fingers through his hair.

He laughed inwardly. “Stressed much?” 

*

Class was dismissed for the day. Sylvain checked his pocket watch. _11:45_. He had fifteen minutes to catch Dorothea before she left for her date. Dorothea was gathering her belongings swifter than she normally did, Sylvain noticed. Even though he was rushing to get his stuff together, she was already gone, like the wind.

He didn’t stay behind to flirt with the professor, as usual. Running out the door as soon as he could, he spotted Dorothea not too far ahead. He couldn’t sprint after her like he’d like to though; there were too many students around. So, fast walking like the jock he was, he didn’t raise any alarms as he tapped on her shoulder nonchalantly. 

“Hey, Dorothea,” he drawled, “you dashed out real quickly. You didn’t even give me the chance to ask you out for peach sorbets.” 

“Oh, hey, Sylvain.” She adjusted her hat, as she kept walking. Sylvain trailed behind her. “When did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking, today, at noon?” She stopped in her tracks. _Gotcha._

“Today, at noon? Sorry, Sylvain. I kind of have a date at that same time. How about dinner instead?”

“Dinner sounds nice.”

“Dinner it is, then.” She turned away. _Think, think, think!_

Sylvain smacked his head dramatically. “Shoot, wait! I just realized, I need your help for some last minute studying! I have a certification test at 1 today!” He gave her puppy-dog eyes. “Pwetty pwease, Dowothea?”

She sighed. “Sylvain, that won’t work on me. I’d really like to help, but as I told you before, I have a date. Try asking Annette to help you out instead.” She gave him a pat on the arm and continued walking. “Good luck.”

“Wait, Dorothea!”

“Ugh, what is it now, Sylvain?” She stomped. 

“Don’t go on that date.”

Dorothea crossed her arms. “And why not?”

“Because…” he scrambled for excuses. His mind was blanking. “Look, Dorothea, before you get mad, I have to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” With each passing second, Sylvain could feel Dorothea’s annoyance grow higher and higher. 

“I, uh, actually wasn’t inspecting the bushes for Dedue. I _may_ or may not have eavesdropped on your conversation.”

“You did what?” Dorothea boomed. He flinched. “That isn’t cool, Sylvain.”

“I know, I know. I really didn’t mean to, but I was getting worried.”

“Worried? Over what? My business isn’t yours.”

“I wasn’t concerned about your date, I was concerned about you,” he explained. “You called the guy a creep, so I worried.” He paused. Her eyes were fiery, maybe on the verge of tears. _I_ _don’t want to make her cry._ “I didn’t hear the whole conversation, I promise,” he added quickly. “Just ditch that guy, you’re worth more than being his escort, Dorothea.” 

“Stop!” she snapped, tears threatening to spill. “I know that! But this is to secure my future, not that you’d know anything about that.”

“I may not know, but he’s not worth your time. There’s other, _better_ , guys out there for you.”

“Oh yeah? Who, then?”

“Anyone but _him_!”

“Hmm, even you?” His heart skipped a beat. But no, he wasn’t worth her time either, he decided.

“…You can do better than me,” he relented.

“Hmm. Then tell me. _Why_ do you care so much?” 

“Why?” he repeated, dumbfounded. Sylvain wracked his brain for an answer, but he couldn’t form one. _Why do I care so much about the girl standing in front of me?_ It was a seemingly simple question with an easy answer. _Why am I struggling to answer?_

“Now I need an excuse to care, do I?” he retorted.

“You can’t even give me a real answer,” she sniffed. “Do me a favor and figure yourself out before you start scolding me. ” She turned away with a click of her heels. “I have a date to get to now. Seeya, Sylvain.”

“Dorothea, wait! I— I’m sorry! I didn’t… mean to.” She continued walking as if she hadn’t heard a thing. His heart didn’t stop pounding as he stood there, motionless. _Dammit, why’d I do that?_

*

The return to his room felt like he was trudging through a muddy battlefield with a horse on his back. Sylvain felt like he’d messed up, _big_ time. He knew it wasn’t his place to confront her about a stupid date, but he did, like a total blockhead. Her question didn’t stop ringing through his ears, though; it was tearing itself through his mind relentlessly, reminding him of his mistake.

_Why do you care so much? Why do you care so much?_ Why do you care so much?

He gripped his temples, groaning.

Admittedly, Sylvain was lost. Maybe he was wrong, maybe Dorothea _would_ be fine. After all, Dorothea wouldn’t go on a date she found to be sketchy. She’d complained thousands of times about guys who she didn’t like—a whole bunch of freaky bastards that’d made her shiver— but she still went out with them. Why did this feel any different?

Whenever he thought about this random man, his chest tightened and his mouth twitched into a snarl. He felt angry—no, not just angry. He felt betrayed.

“Dammit, Sylvain. This is absurd. What the hell is wrong with you?” 

Her smile, it made his heart flutter. Her dreams and aspirations, he prayed to the Goddess every day for them to come true. Whenever he held her in his arms, he felt at peace, as if they were the only two in the world. Thinking back on it, he was always at his best when he was with her. Sylvain felt free, as if he was _more_ than just a Crest or pretty-faced noble. He felt cared for, understood, appreciated. She taught him that there was more to him than what meets the eye. He wanted to protect her, not that she needed protecting to begin with though. He had so much to say about her, it was almost suffocating. He felt as if he… 

_Why do you care so much?_

“I don’t know!”

_Why do you care so much?_

His heart pounded. “Stop, it can’t be that.” He clutched his chest. “It’d be easier to harden my heart again. Why don’t I do that instead?”

_Why do you care so much?_

His face reddened. “I… Fine.”

He flopped onto his bed with a groan, still clutching his chest. It felt warmer than usual, like he couldn’t breathe. Staring at his ceiling, he sighed. Moving his hand from his chest to run through his hair, he whispered to himself.

“Dorothea, I think I’m… in love with you.”

*

Days passed. Sylvain wasn’t himself. He’d be the last to arrive, and the first to leave. He didn’t flirt with the other girls like he usually did, opting to shut himself in his room instead. He wasn’t brooding as much as Dimitri, but he _was_ all the same. Felix, Ingrid, even Ashe tried to reach out to him, but he swerved away with a plastered-on smile. All in the hopes of avoiding Dorothea herself.

He couldn’t bring himself to face her. Not after the realization he had. His best hope was to let the feeling pass, if it would. He knew if he saw her, he wouldn’t be able to resist talking to her. He might even make the mistake of confessing what he felt about her.

“Sylvain!” _Oh no._ He didn’t even bother to check who it was before he bolted; he knew that voice all too well. “Hey, Sylvain! Stop! I want to talk to you!”

No way in _hell_ was he letting that happen. Sylvain was faster than her anyways, he could always outrun her. “Sylvain, if you don’t stop right now, I’ll have no choice but to Thoron you!”

“Your threat doesn’t scare me!” He called out over his shoulder as he kept running. As he turned the corner, he bumped into his good old friend, Ingrid. They were both knocked backwards at the impact.

Ingrid was rubbing her nose. “Ouch! Sylvain, watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry, Ingrid.” He dusted himself off and offered her a hand. “Here.”

She took it and he helped her up. “Let me guess. A girl’s chasing you?”

“Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “You could say that.”

She sighed exasperatedly. “What’d you do _this_ time? Do I have to clean up after you again?”

He shook his hands side to side. “No, no. That’s not necessary, Ingrid.” He flashed a big smile at her. “Thank you, though. You’re a great friend, have I told you that?”

“Not recently. Anyways I should— Hmm?” Ingrid leaned to the side to look behind Sylvain. “Oh, hi, Dorothea. Look who I found.”

“D-Dorothea?” Sylvain felt shivers down his spine. He gulped. _Oh no._

“Thanks for distracting him for me, Ingrid. I’ll have to pay you back sometime.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ingrid giggled. “Sylvain’s had it coming for some time. He needs to talk, sooner or later.”

“Ingrid, why?” Sylvain whined. “I thought we were friends! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Sorry, Sylvain,” Ingrid mused, as she walked away. “It’s for your own good.”

Dorothea tapped on his shoulder. “Ahem, your attention.”

_Crap._ He creakily turned around to face Dorothea, who looked as smug as Felix winning a spar. “H-hey there, Dorothea?”

She clicked her tongue. “Oh, Sylvain, you should know, running from a lady is rude.” She stepped towards him almost menacingly. He tried backing away from her, but found himself against a wall. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you!” She slammed her hands against the wall, trapping him there. The scent of roses was dancing in and out of his nostrils from this close proximity, and he could feel her breath on his skin. He stiffened. 

“What do you think I am? Stupid? I can tell you’re avoiding me.” His heart was beating up to his ears; was it always this loud? He gulped, trying to make the pounding in his ears subside, if only for a moment. She dropped her arms and leant against the adjacent wall with one foot. Adjusting her hat, she continued, “Look, I just wanted to apologize. Even though eavesdropping is wrong, I should be glad that you were concerned about me. Not a lot of people are.” 

He shifted his gaze to his feet. “Man, were you always this short?”

“Wow, okay. Is that all you have to say?” He didn’t respond, filling the air with a chilling silence. Dorothea cleared her throat. “There! I apologized; you can stop avoiding me now, Sylvain.” Pushing herself off the wall, she mumbled, “So, are we cool?”

“We’ve always been ‘cool,’ Dorothea.” He clenched his jaw. “I just don’t think that… I can stop avoiding you, though. I’m sorry.” Sylvain moved to leave, but he was stopped. This time, Dorothea was the one holding him back by his wrist.

“Why? Was it something I did?” Her voice sounded frantic; pleading, almost.

He looked away from her. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then what is it? We’re still friends, right?”

“…Yes, of course. But I… I can’t tell you. Please understand, Dorothea.”

“I won’t!” She snarled, “I want to know, Sylvain.”

“Please… I don’t want it to change our friendship.”

“Lots of things have changed our friendship. And we’ve gotten through it just fine. I promise this won’t change anything either.”

“You don’t even know what it is! How can you say that?”

“I know _you_. Whatever it is, I’m sure it can’t be anything bad.”

“If you’re so sure,” he frowned, “then guess.”

“You want me to guess?” Dorothea let go of his hand and smiled. She tapped her chin, as if she was in deep thought. After a few moments, she finally spoke. “Okay. I’ll say… you’re avoiding me because you finally realized that I’m _hotter_ than you.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” she grinned even wider, “you’re jealous that I’m more of a catch than you.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know,” Sylvain stated matter-of-factly, “lots of people would disagree with you.”

“Right. Just admit that you’re _jealous_ of me and call it a day.”

“I’m not jealous of you, Dorothea! Where’d that even come from?”

“There’s no use denying it now, Sylvain.” Dorothea shrugged her shoulders. “It’s the only _obvious_ answer.”

“You really believe that?” He sighed. “I guess I can’t argue with that logic.”

“I’m only pushing your buttons, Sylvain. I’m trying to make you smile.” 

“I appreciate it, really.”

“Well, I made my guess. Now, I think it’s about time you tell me what this ‘friendship breaking secret’ is.”

“You didn’t have to air quote it, Dorothea. It really is serious.”

She guffawed. “Serious? From you Sylvain? Rather unexpected.” 

“Hey! I can be serious too,” he mumbled.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh yeah? That guessing game didn’t seem serious to me.”

“Well, I _was_ trying to derail you from the problem after all. But since you’re so dead-set on it, fine, I’ll tell you.” He took a deep breath. _This is it._ “…ve with you.”

“What? You’re mumbling, Sylvain.”

Sylvain sighed. “Nothing gets past you, huh?” He sucked in a breath, and in a loud decree, he shouted:

“I’m in love with you, Dorothea Arnault!”

The birds on the tree fluttered away, and his voice echoed off the walls. She took a step back. She looked shocked, her cheeks were puffed up; was there a hint of disgust there too, with her mouth quivering like that? He couldn’t tell. Dorothea adjusted her hat to cover her eyes, which looked to be watery.

“Look, I totally understand if you wanna stop being friends, Dorothea. I tried to avoid you for this exact reason.” Sylvain sighed. He balled his hands up into fists. “Sorry, I’m really sorry for feeling the way I do. Pathetic, right?”

Dorothea snickered. She pulled her hat tighter on her head. “N-no way… You’re, uh, you’re serious?” She burst out into laughter.

“Huh?”

“I’m—sorry— oh my goodness, this is— hahaha—wait, wait, I can’t breathe!—Sylvain, I—hahaha!”

“Look, you can just reject me normally. You don’t have to laugh at me like that, though,” he grumbled. His ears were hot with embarrassment.

“Sorry, sorry!” She wiped a tear from her eye. Once she caught her breath, she looked up at him. “Ahem, sorry. I’m just… surprised, is all.”

“Yeah, well, now that you know, I’m gonna go.”

“Aww, you’re not gonna ask me out, Sylvain?” she teased. “Who knows? Maybe I like you a bit more than the average person, too?”

“Okay, even I can tell that you’re pulling my leg, Dorothea.” He pushed past her and began to walk away. _Dammit, this is humiliating! Ugh, I can’t believe that I— oof!_ He didn’t walk far when, suddenly, Sylvain felt a weight on his back, stopping him in place. He felt two slender arms slip around his torso. The bracelets on her arms jingled from the breeze.

“Your heart is beating so fast, Sylvain. I can hear it so clearly now.” Dorothea whispered, “Does my hair tickle?”

“A little,” he said as he put his hands on her arms.

“I apologize for laughing. It was a nervous reaction, I suppose.” She squeezed him. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah. I get it.” The two stood silent for some time, as Dorothea continued to hug him from behind. He felt deflated, even if his heart was beating a hundred miles a minute.

Finally, Dorothea said softly, “Take me out for a date. A real one. I wanna take a chance on you, Sylvain.”

His eyes widened, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood rigid. He ran out of her hug, and exclaimed, “Wait, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

She shrugged coyly, with a sly smile; her green eyes were twinkling mischievously. “I don’t know, is it?”

A huge grin grew on Sylvain’s face. “Oh, I could kiss you right now!”

“Kiss me, then!” Sylvain lifted her up in a big bear hug, twirling around with her in his arms. He kissed her with all the passion he could muster as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He didn’t want to let her go, but he had to. He was getting winded.

“Haah… Dorothea.” He paused, the smile couldn’t be wiped off. “How about we go get some peach sorbets together?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that?” she giggled. “It’s practically sunset now.”

He held her hand. “No better time than now. Besides,” he added, “the colors match.”

“You know, I think I’d like that.” She laid her head on his arm as they walked, hand-in-hand, to the dining hall. Peach sorbets were waiting, after all.

**

A knock at his door. Sylvain stirred in bed, which caused Dorothea to stir as well. The pounding didn’t stop. Reluctantly, he had to get the door, even though she was trying to pull him back into bed. ‘Just a minute,’ he said. Outside the door, he saw his beloved professor; frantic, out of breath, and her hair sticking to her head with sweat. ‘Professor,’ he exclaimed, ‘what’s wrong?’

She’d explained that Edelgard’s army was approaching the monastery. Sooner than they had expected, and that everyone needed to get geared up as soon as possible. ‘Do you happen to know where Dorothea is? I haven’t been able to find her,’ the professor asked. Sylvain’s face reddened. ‘Uh, she might be on a date? If I see her, I’ll make sure to tell her, Professor,’ he stammered. The professor nodded and went to the next room. Pounding on the door as she’d done before.

Shutting his door, he rushed to shake Dorothea awake. ‘Doro, come on, get up! Edelgard and her army are at our doorstep,’ he pleaded. She snapped her eyes open and bolted up in bed. She had so many questions that Sylvain didn’t know the answers to. ‘I don’t know, but we have to get ready for battle. Let’s go!’

*

‘Professor, you can’t be serious,’ Sylvain protested. She simply shook her head, explained that in a battle like this, cavalry movement would be essential. ‘But Professor, I haven’t fought as a cavalry unit in some time! I’m rusty!’ She said it would be fine. 

‘But what about Dorothea?’ She thought for a moment. ‘You won’t be paired up for this battle.’ Sylvain was upset, but he knew better than to argue with the professor. ‘I see,’ he grimaced. He snuck off to tell Dorothea about it.

*

‘Sylvain, be careful, okay?’ Dorothea had said, tears in her eyes. ‘I won’t be able to help you if something happens, you’d be too far to reach.’ He smiled at her, reassured her with a hug, that he’d be fine. ‘Same to you, beautiful.’ Holding his hand as they just smiled at each other, Dorothea pressed a kiss to his lips. Luckily the professor didn’t see anything, when she called her over to her adjutant for this battle.

Pairing Dorothea with Felix, Sylvain was left alone. On the other half of the battlefield. He was scared. He couldn’t even use his magic, and his lance skills weren’t in the best shape. Sucking in his breath, he hitched his horse forward at the sound of the first battle horn. 

***

His vision was beginning to get hazy. The bitter taste of metal coated his tongue, swirling around him dangerously. His arms felt weak, and he struggled to remain upright on the horse. He was breathing heavy, but the ash in the air invaded his lungs instead of the fresh air he needed. That ballista arrow he’d taken was much more painful than it should’ve been; he’d been bleeding out ever since it hit. Coughing, he tried to retreat. His horse was spooked though, refusing to budge. Sylvain was stuck. No choice but to tough it out.

From the cloud of dust, an enemy warrior approached. ‘Come on, move, dammit!’ He tried to ready his lance, but by then, it was too late. The warrior rattled out a war cry as he leapt into the air, bringing the axe down onto Sylvain. With a scream, he was knocked off his horse. His lance impaled in the ground, as he lay, bleeding out onto the ground.

The warrior bellowed a laugh, taking his time to ready himself for the finishing blow. Sylvain’s breath shook. His mind was racing. _This is the end, isn’t it? Dorothea, I’m sorry._ He thought back to all his friends, every time he had messed around with them, and mourned that he wouldn’t see them again. He wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to _her_ either, would he? 

He couldn’t feel his legs anymore, and he was sure his arms would go numb next. He was terrified, laying there and waiting for death to claim him. A tear slipped out, as he fluttered his eyes closed, accepting the axe sent to steal his life away. But nothing happened.

‘Grrgah!’ the warrior gurgled. He heard wings flapping above him; he felt the gentle breeze of it graze his face. 

‘Sylvain!’ It sounded like… ‘…lvain!… et up!…ain!’ Gone limp.

*

When he finally awoke, he found himself in a bed, in his old room at the Gautier Manor. He rubbed his head, only to find that it was heavily bandaged. Everything felt sore; he couldn’t even muster the strength to sit up. At his bedside, he saw Ingrid. She was passed out, her head laying atop her arms on his bed. 

“Ingrid?” he croaked. She bolted up instantly.

“Sylvain!” Ingrid broke into tears, jumping to hug Sylvain. “Oh thank the Goddess you’re okay!”

He patted her back gingerly as she hiccuped her sobs. He felt guilt build up in his chest. “Ingrid…”

“It was so awful! You were… so injured that I… I almost couldn’t tell it was you. I honestly thought that I was bringing back your dead body, when I was flying back, Sylvain! You were gone for a whole week, for the Goddess's sake!”

“…Thank you, Ingrid. You’re a great friend, have I told you that?”

She pulled away from him. Although tears were still painting her face, she managed to smile. “…Not recently.”

“Ingrid, what even happened? Did we… win?”

She looked down at her clenched fists. Hesitantly, she shook her head, “No. The battle… it was a disaster. We lost a lot of people. Everyone else was either severely injured or captured by the Empire.” She clenched her jaw. “The professor gave me last minute orders to extract our fighting students from the battlefield. That’s when I… saw you.

“I thought I was too late,” she lamented. “But I couldn’t leave you there, dead or not. I flew you to our agreed upon safezone, and left you with Mercedes. Then I flew right back out to find others. I had no idea if you’d make it or not. I wanted to stay, but I had to carry my duty out first.”

“Ingrid, did you find Dorothea?”

She shook her head remorsefully. “I couldn’t find her.”

“What about Felix?” he pleaded. “They were paired up, he would have to know, right?”

“They got split up.”

“Split up?” Sylvain exclaimed. “How?”

“Felix… he told me that when a demonic beast used its flame breath, it got too close to them. It struck _just_ shy of both of them, but the blast had left them on opposite sides of the field. He couldn’t see anything, or breathe from all the smoke.” She took a deep breath. “He really tried to find her, Sylvain.”

Sylvain shook in bed. “So she’s…” He grimaced, even though it hurt. “Ingrid, there _has_ to be a chance that she’s okay, right?”

“I’m sure there is. I wasn’t the only knight extracting our students from the battle. I’m sure Petra or Leonie would have found her, if I didn’t.”

“Dammit!” He roared. 

“Sylvain…”

“I’m sorry, Ingrid,” his voice trembled. “I just hope that she’s okay.”

“I know.” She patted his shoulder. “I hope so too.” Rising to leave, she said, “I’m going to go get you some soup, and then I have to fly home. My dad must be worried sick about me.” 

“Thanks, Ingrid. Please, go home safe. I can’t afford to lose someone else.” 

She nodded at him, as she stood in the doorway. “Make sure to rest up. Mercedes may come by for some check-ups.” She shut the door, leaving Sylvain alone in his room.

“Dorothea,” he sighed, a single tear slipping past his eye. “Please don’t be dead. I want to… meet you again.” He shut his eyes, murmuring a prayer to himself. “Please, Ms. Goddess, please let her be alive. I’m begging you, please.

“Let her be alive.”

**Author's Note:**

> forgive me :(
> 
> Let me know if I should write a sequel to this! Since, I have an idea. And, it'll be pretty darn painful to write or read for that matter. I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you for reading! ^^


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